Sunday, 13 October 2013

1918-04-27

A
BIT OF GOOD ADVICE TO START WITH

Die poor and your relations will never bother
their heads about you, but leave a bit of property, no matter if it is only a
thousand or two dollars, and no will, claimants who never heard of you when you
were fighting your way through life will spring up from every quarter and rush
to the law courts for a share. Now this does not apply to the direct
descendants such as wife, and children, to father and mother, brothers and sisters,
for the law takes care of them unless the head of the family should take it
into his head to make a will and cut his wife and children out of all he can
under the law, and in a malevolent spirit, leave them penniless. This has been
done more than once in this blessed city, and is likely to occur again. Men
with good-looking wives and no children have been known to make a will and
leave their wives, who have helped to create the wealth, with barely what the
law recognizes as her her share, and divide it among even distant relatives who
probably never gave them a crust of bread during their lifetime. A lawyer was
once called in this city to make the will of a dying man, who had saved a
handsome fortune, as riches were counted in his day. He worked long hours
everyday at his business, never spent a cent willingly for benevolent purposes,
and his wife was a frugal woman who might spent more in home comforts if she
only had it. When his sands of life were running out, his wealth became a
burden to him. He could not take it with him, as shrouds have no pockets, and
he worried till almost the last moment before he could decide to whom it should
go. One thing certain, the good wife who had made his home life as happy as it
was possible for him to enjoy, and who had helped by her economy in creating
the wealth, was not going to get her hands on any more of it than he could
help, for she might marry again and some other fellow would have the spending
of it. At the last moment he called for his lawyer and spent the last afternoon
of his life in dividing the estate among relatives whom he had not seen since
his younger days when he left his fatherland to come to Hamilton. He was
careful to keep within the law as to the portion to be allotted to his wife.
When the will was ready for the signature of the dying man, he was too weak to
held the pen with which to sign his name, and on the advice of his lawyer
deferred this important part till the next morning. The undertaker, however,
was at the house before the lawyer the next morning, and the will was never
signed. The lawyer, in telling the story afterward, said he was never so happy
as when he saw the undertaker’s emblem of mourning on that door, and he
returned to his office, without entering the home of death, rejoicing that
there was victory in the grave. The wife got half of the estate, which left her
substantially wealthy during her lifetime, and she had no desire to enter again
the matrimonial market. That she loved her husband goes without saying, for her
married life was devoted to his comfort and happiness.

Some years ago, a
miser who had spent his lifetime wandering between St. Catharines and Hamilton,
hoarded every cent that came to him till he accumulated quite a large sum of
money. He did not even supply himself with the commonest necessities of life.
The poor old fellow was even too mean to get married, for some woman would be
glad to share his fortune even if she could not give in return the ordinary
respect and love that should be a home. The old miser was not known to have a
relative, but sadly and alone he plodded on through life, his only desire being
to add dollar upon dollar. The time came for him to answer the last roll-call
in life, and to die decently he beat his way on the Grand Trunk road from St.
Catharines to Hamilton and at the station in this city was removed from the
train to the city hospital in a free ambulance. The ruling passion was even
strong in the closing hours of life. For the first time in many years, he
enjoyed the luxury of a bath and clean clothes to sleep in, and then quietly
ended the journey without telling even the nurse who attended him in the hospital
who was to pay the bill. But he was rich. In his ragged old clothing, bank
books were found, and the more the officials hunted the greater was the wonder
at where the old Todd got it all. There were no relatives to attend his burial,
although the hospital officials made due inquiry in the vicinity of Niagara
Falls and St. Catharines, but when it became known that the old fellow left a
large estate in money, an army of relatives and claimants swarmed into the
courts to get a share of it. Some people who had never heard of Todd during his
lifetime were among the most persistent of the claimants. And the final result
was that the lawyers got fat fees while the claimants were fighting. “The
lawyers will get it,” as the old man in the play of the Chimney Corner said wen
he was hiding his money in the chimney. And the lawyers did get a generous
share of Miser Todd’s fortune after all.

And
this brings us down to the point we had in view when we started this bit of
ancient history. Just think of what a stir this poor little Irish baby, born in
Dundas more than seventy years ago, is making today. It is a “Tale of Two
Cities” – Hamilton, Canada and San Francisco, California. It dates back to when
Hamilton was but little more than village, and now it comes into full bloom
when this great industrial city, with a population of more than one hundred
thousand and then as many more as Assessment Commissioner McLeod and his army
of assessors feel like adding so as to keep just a little ahead of ancient
Bytown. There is rivalry in cities as there is in love. Of course, we might go
on with that kind of camouflage till our allotted space was taken and then the
reader would not know a bot about the “Tale of Two Cities.” And here we are
again at the resurrection of that dear little Irish girl who first saw the
light in Dundas nearly three quarters of a century ago. Honora Cahill would
never have been heard of again in Hamilton or Dundas, although she has
relations galore who now claim to know all about her child history, had she not
left diamonds and jewels enough to almost fill all the show cases in Thomas
Lees’ jewelry store; and besides the jewels there was gold and silver enough to
enrich the coffers of the Bank of Hamilton and make Manager Bell monarch of all
he surveyed.

It
is astonishing what a memory reviver a rich relation becomes after passing
through the undertaker’s hands. We give a bit of Honora’s child history, as we
learned it from a first cousin, who said it was but little he knew except that
when he was a child, living in Dundas, his mother who was the only sister of
Michael James Cahill, Honora’s father, would often wonder what became of her
brother “Mick”after he left Dundas, foe
she “never heard hide or half of him or his family.” In the old days, when the
postage on a letter cost from eight pence to fifteen pence, poor families did
not keep up much correspondence with the absent ones, especially as not many
poor Irishmen could read or write; and there were not many scholars who left
old Ireland seventy-five years ago. “Mick” Cahill came to Hamilton when he was
a bit of a gossoon, and he came to pave the way for the remainder of the family
of the family if they could ever raise the passage money to bring them across
the sea. Only one sister came, and she died in Dundas many years ago, after
raising a family of boys and girls. Before “Mick” Cahill moved to Dundas, he
married a young Irish girl, who, it is said, was born in this old town, but
some of the relatives claim that she was a native of the county of Derry and
came across the sea when she was a very young child. Be that as it may, for it
is neither here nor there, “Mick” Chaill and this girl fell in love with each
other, as it was a natural event in those days with Irish boys and girls, and
they moved out to Dundas, where work was plenty at five shillings a day. Dundas
was a busy town in those days, with its paper mills and factories, and other
industries; and, by and by, the Great Western road was started, and every husky
fellow who could handle a pick or a shovel was in demand. The Cahills had two
children born to them in the Valley Town, a boy and a girl. The boy died in
infancy, and when Honora was about two years old, the Cahills had a falling out,
which resulted in a separation, and “Mick” went his way the mother went hers,
and they never lived together afterwards.

When
Mrs. Cahill bid farewell to “Mick” forever , she came back to Hamilton,
bringing with her the two year old Honora, and not knowing which way to turn,
she went to the home of Mrs. Tangney, an Irish widow, who lived at No. 9
O’Reilly street, and that old friend advised her to take her child and go to
Cleveland, Ohio, and she would give her a letter to a friend of hers, and by
this means she would not be lonely in a strange city. When Mrs. Cahill went to
Cleveland, she fortunately fell into the hands of a motherly old Irishwoman,
who was a housekeeper in a good hotel, and there she got a home for herself and
child. How many years she lived in Cleveland is a blank in her history, but the
next heard of mother and daughter was that they were in California, and that
Honora had married a noted horseman of those days by the name of Peele, and he
was very successful on the race track. Then we have the story that Honora and
her husband went to China, where Peele was noted for his “string” of races and
added to the fatness of his bank account. The next we hear of Honora is that
she was back again in San Francisco, California, but Peele seems to have
dropped out of sight.

It
is said that Honora’s mother died about thirty years ago, but that neither
mother nor daughter were again heard of in Hamilton, nor is it known that they
ever visited here. “Mick” Cahill made several efforts to be conciliated with
his wife, visiting her in Cleveland, but of no avail, and in time he drifted
out, never to be heard of again in Hamilton.

Some
years later, there appeared in a directory of 1857 of Hamilton the names of
Cornelius Cahill, a gardener, who lived on Catherine street, between Augusta
and Peel, and Dennis Cahill, a laborer in D. C. Gunn’s locomotive works. Whether
they were related to Michael James Cahill deponent saith not. Mrs. Michael McKenna,
“Mick” Cahill’s sister, spent the greater part of her life in Dundas. One of
her sons is living in Hamilton and is employed at the Westinghouse factory, and
from him we have gathered a bit of family history to make up the “Tale of Two
Cities.”

NOW
THE FIGHT IS FOR THE FORTUNE

On
the 19th day of January, 1909, Honora Cahill-Peele evidently came to
the conclusion that she could not take with her to the grave her wealth of
diamonds, jewelry and cash, and that the most sensible thing she could do was
to make a will so that the lawyers would not get it. The good soul never
dreamed what was to be the final result after all. A couple of weeks ago, we
published a copy of her will, and it will be seen from it that she was careful
in providing for a distribution of the diamonds and jewels and a good share of
the cash; but she had too much money to give away and no one to leave it to,
and she finally bunched the residue by providing that her executor “shall
distribute the same among the various Protestant institutions located in
Hamilton, Canada.” Evidently she had no knowledge of having any relatives in
Hamilton, for no mention is made of them anywhere in her will. Further, she
provided that her executor “shall determine what Protestant institutions are so
located, and how much of this bequest shall go to each institution. His decision
as to what Protestant charitable institutions exist in Hamilton, and the amount
each one shall receive out of this legacy shall be absolute and binding on all
parties interested.”

IT
IS A GOODLY SUM AND WORTH SCRAPPING FOR.

And
here let us suggest to the readers of these musings, if you have not already
made a will, so that what you leave after paying funeral expenses will go to
those you intend to provide for, do it now and don’t put off till you are so
far gone that you cannot sign your will, for an army of relatives, of whom you
have never hear, will come out of the clouds to get a share of it. And what
they don’t get, the lawyers will.

Now
that is the case with Honora Cahill-Peele fortune. She died on the 15th
day of December, 1916, and her executors, the Mercantile Trust company of San
Francisco, in order to close up the estate, and divide it as directed in her
will, sent agents to Hamilton to hunt up the history of Mrs. Peele. The records
in Hamilton and Dundas were searched, and it was found that fifteen or more
relations came forward as claimants, not one of them having any personal
knowledge that the poor little Irish girl, born in Dundas nearly three quarters
of a century ago, was the fountain of great wealth that was to put them on easy
street for the remaining years of their lives.

Again
the Trust company sent an agent to hunt for further proof, and this renewed the
flame of expectancy. And now the case is being heard in the San Francisco
courts, and if the relatives will only act with prudence, there may be a speedy
settlement, and each one get a bite of the fat things. The Protestant charities
of Hamilton, if we may except the Salvation Army, had taken no part till their
attention was called to the papers received from San Francisco by T. H. Pratt.
Then Mayor Booker became interested in the outcome of the charities of
Hamilton, and got into communication with the British consulate-general in San
Francisco, and an attorney has been employed in the city’s interest. The mayor
has handed the matter over to Mr. Waddell, the corporation solicitor, and now
things are getting shape so that the Protestant charities in Hamilton will soon
be able to find out where they are at.

Well,
there you are, and as the prize fighters say, when they shy their castors into
the ring, “May the best man win!” Strange things happen in this world. A poor
little Irish baby born in Dundas in comparative poverty three quarters of a
century ago, furnishes a sensation that interests a continent.